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They certainly haven’t done anything to help the children of Caelria, though. The temples to the primordial elements don’t take in orphans or children in need. They’re staffed entirely with priests from their respective attached courts. Wands for fire, Pentacles for earth, Cups for water, and Swords for air. “It seems shortsighted to block people from that resource,” I finally say. “Even if someone abused it.”

“Enacting that policy was shortsighted. The number of temples in Caelria is half of what it was even ten years ago. It’s foolish in the extreme to risk angering the old gods by diminishing their worship. Time may move differently for them, but the reckoning for the harm done will come.” Before I can figure out how to respond to that, she nudges the tray closer to me. “Eat, Moon. You’ll need your strength.”

That’s the thing—I feel strong. “I should be exhausted after using my powers so much last night.” This, at least, maybe I can get some answers about.

“On the contrary, you will strengthen with each night that passes. You will see increased stamina, healing, and strength as the Moon waxes to full.”

Just as Vesper theorized last night. I eat a strawberry and consider her. “How does that work? The Moon wasn’t up while I was sleeping.”

The Priestess shrugs. “The Sun does not cease to exist when we can’t see Them in the sky. The same is true for the Moon.” She sits back. “I will gather your clothing for today and be back shortly.”

“If you’re taking requests, I would love a normal pair of pants!”

Instead of responding, she just slips out the door and leaves me to finish my meal. Our conversation was interesting, but as I continue to eat, I force myself to set aside any curiosity about Priestess or the way things used to be. The history of Caelria will still be there at the end of the Trials if I want to dig deeper. Surviving each night’s slaughter has to be the priority, and to do that, I can’t afford any further distractions.

Priestess returns a short while later to lay out my clothing. Clearly our conversation unsettled her, because her usual grace is fractured into short, awkward movements. Her hands shake as she moves to grab the tray.

Without thinking, I touch her shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone what we spoke of.”

She glances at me, her pale eyes strangely exhausted. “It wouldn’t matter if you did. My time in this world is coming to a close, and there is no one to take my place. My chosen family are all gone.”

There are no retired priests in Caelria; at least not that I’ve ever encountered. I’ve never stopped to wonder why, just like I barely noticed the temples falling into disrepair and inevitably being converted to serve the primordial elements. It was all religious bullshit, and I was worried about feeding Mouse and the littles. Maybe I should have paid more attention. “I’m sorry.”

She nods stiffly. “Thank you. If you’re able to arrange your own hair today…”

“Yes, of course.” I’m not going to be capable of anything as fancy as she does, but I don’t see why it matters. “Thank you for the conversation.” I wait for her to leave the room and then turn to look at the new monstrosity I’m supposed to wear. No matter how impractical last night’s dress appeared, I was able to move freely without once having to think about restrictions from what I wore. This new piece seems to be in the same vein.

It’s a bodysuit that, when I finally drag it on, covers me from wrists to neck to ankles. It’s like a second skin made of a strange shimmering gray so dark, it’s almost black. It’s also indecent. I run my hands over the fabric and wince. I can clearly see my breasts through it; it will only take a gust of wind and my nipples will be on display for anyone who cares to notice. I’m not precious about modesty—it doesn’t exist when you live in close quarters with half a dozen people—but this is ridiculous.

At least there’s a second part to the outfit. It takes me a few tries to figure out how it’s meant to work, two wide pieces of black fabric that hang from my shoulders. I use the harness for my sickles to belt them around my waist. The fabric is see-through, but it almost manages to cover the essentials revealed by the bodysuit. Again, the boots are practical: tall things that cover my legs to the thigh and hug my feet as if made for them. I slip the coins Mara gave me into the little pockets in the harness again. They would be safer if I left them behind in my room, but I’m reluctant to give up this reminder of her. I’ve managed to stay alive this long. Maybe her pleas for the gods’ protection really are working.

When I climb the stairs, Priestess is nowhere to be seen. She’s clearly not one for goodbyes. I respect that. Sometimes wishing someone well when they’re about to run off into danger feels like a curse instead.

Cato and Vesper are already in the courtyard, tucked into the faint shadow cast by the Sun’s temple. Cato wears another white-and-gold kilt, his warm brown skin shimmering with gold as if lit from within. I can’t tell if it’s a side effect from using the Sun’s power or if Their priest rubbed something on his skin. The effect draws the eye in a way I resent. I don’t want to notice him, but I can’t seem to stop myself from taking in the broadness of his shoulders and chest, the muscles in his arms, perfect complements to the natural visual flow of his body.

I jerk my attention to Vesper, but there’s no reprieve to be found there, either. They wear a deep silver tunic that doesn’t quite reach their knees. It wouldn’t be worth noting except their legs are bare but for the brace. I know better than to make sweeping generalizations about the lack of physicality of the cerebral Swords, but I’m still drawn to how shapely their thighs are. Their braids are twisted up into a complicated style, little crimson flowers woven in throughout.

Cato whistles when he sees me. “They really went all out with you, didn’t they?” I hate how my cheeks heat at his blatant appreciation. I’m still mostly sure I dislike him, but I’m attracted to him all the same.

“Shut up.” It’s warmer today than it was yesterday. By all rights, being covered as much as I am should have me sweating immediately. Unfortunately—or fortunately—the fabric is so thin, it’s almost like walking around naked. Honestly, what were they thinking giving me this? “I didn’t choose it.”

“None of us did.” He spreads his arms, drawing my gaze to his muscular chest again. “Do you think I’d be walking around half naked if I was picking my own clothing?”

“I wouldn’t presume to know.” I sound like a priss, but damn it, it took him mere seconds to get under my skin.

He holds out a hand. Confused, I place mine in his, and then let out a little yip when he spins me out and then back into his body, just like he did last night. I end up under his arm, pressed against his very warm body. He smells good, too, like I imagine summer would smell like if I lived somewhere outside the shadow of the wall. His free hand catches my hip, the heat of him searing through the thin fabric of my clothing. I freeze. I don’t know how to feel. None of the scenarios I envisioned for the Trials included flirting.

Cato grins at Vesper. “Don’t we make quite the couple?”

For their part, Vesper doesn’t seem to be amused. “Let’s talk strategy.”

Cato releases me, instantly all business. “I’ve been out here for a while. Death and the Tower are still on good terms, but no one should be surprised by that. Nothing has happened to fracture their alliance. The Chariot’s alliance is still going strong, too, and I don’t think we can take them—at least, not yet.” He glances at me. “You’re right that the Fool is the bigger issue right now, and he’s also the more attractive target. He killed the Emperor and the Star killed the Hierophant, so he’s on his own.”

I can’t keep my surprise off my face. “That’s remarkably reasonable.”

“I’m not just a pretty face.” He rolls his eyes. “Eight more people have to die before the Cinque can ascend. We won’t be able to avoid the other alliances forever, but tonight they’re likely still going to be using the same strategy we are—going after the single champions. Whittling the numbers with as little risk as possible.”

Vesper leans on their cane, their expression contemplative. It’s so interesting how I can see them running scenarios and potential outcomes. I think it might be slightly terrifying to know exactly what’s going on in that head of theirs. “Of the champions left, the Fool is the biggest threat to us tonight. Even if your strategy wasn’t sound—and it is—we need him gone.”